People are corporations, money has more power than ever, and billions are spent to protect and promote the interests of and hide the darkest secrets of those who want to be President of the United States. Join with me in search of the truth hidden behind these politicians' smiles.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

To Texas and Back - White Trash in the Snow CHAPTER 90, 91, 92, 93

If the name Larissa is not familiar, you might want to read Chapters 83 and 84 (January 24 posting "Like Father, Like Son?") for maximum enjoyment of the chapters below.

WHITE TRASH IN THE SNOW

by Allison

CHAPTER NINETY

It was mid-April, six weeks since the Governor’s cleverly
phrased announcement that “The Saplin family is expanding.”It had never been credible. The reporters
called in for “a scoop” had looked with puzzlement at the grinning first couple.
One was thinking, They got a dog?

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out. Their eyes dropped to her
flat-as-board tummy, and she thought Go
ahead, dare to talk about my hips, my uterus, and my menstrual cycle!

Since that day, Rachael had kept up an exhausting pace. If
she were pregnant, would she would have been risking the child’s health and her
own. But, again, no newspaper questioned it. That would require a discussion of
female anatomy and raise questions about working women. The city editor said, “Don’t
touch this. I’d be called a caveman.”

In private meetings, people of the press conjectured that
Governor Saplin was pulling an elaborate hoax. She flew (“My doctor says there
is no reason I shouldn’t fly”), she drank coffee and Red Bull, and she wore
high heels. She did not act like a pregnant woman.And there was something odd about the shape
of her mid-section…

Now, God wanted the Governor to go to Texas and speak at the
Governor’s convention, there was no doubt in Rachael’s mind, the political
invitation was an act of the Almighty.Her
staff questioned whether she should take the long trip, in light of her
“delicate condition.” The question gave
her a chance to make a public declaration of her trust in Jesus and remind her
once again that religion can be a handy thing in politics. “God opened a door and I’mplowin’ through,” she told her staff. “He
wants me to go, so He will bring me home safely, which, of course, means that
the baby will be safe, also. Too, I mean.”No lie. No harm. No foul. A simple and honest explanation.

Intellectually, Rachael Saplin was capable of intricate
thought, but her default was set to simplicity. In politics, she let others
wrestle with the tough issues. After the gouging subsided and the blood washed
away, the weaknesses in proposed legislation would be evident and then she’d
issue a statement.It was easy, or at
least simple. Invariably, her office spokesperson would declare her to be “a
real fighter,” or some suchmoose crap.

How did she get away with such mediocrity? Again, it was
simple. And, she had Lydia Krebs to thank for the opportunity that led to the
most important lesson of her life.

It was years ago. In
an instant, Rachael had figured out what the public liked. She hadn’t worked on political prowess, she
stumbled into it while wearing a red evening gown and recognized it’s value
when she walked across a stage swishing her hind end. Yes, it was competition for
the Miss Azzolla pageant when she was only nineteen where she discovered that education,
intelligence, talent, and perseverance were not important to the general
public. Miss Heat won that contest, and
collected gifts, money, praise and attention because her butt looked good in a
swimsuit. Lesson learned. Twenty years later, she dressed in four-inch heels,
had a naughty-librarian up-do, and made commercials that would cause people to
think she knew how to hunt, the latter to entice tourists to come into the
state and shoot beautiful animals. To make herself likeable to the
conservatives, she talked about being a mom, having children, appreciating her
family, and having grown up with siblings.Men assumed she was dumb, but
voted for her because they were aroused by the ad with “the pretty woman
shooting a gun.” Women found her stylish, but they voted for her more often
because she told them (and told them, and told them) that she’s a good mom. Evangelicals
were the most powerful voting block she courted, and using code words to let
them know she was “one of them,” she made anti-abortion statements at every
opportunity. “Right to life,” and “the rights of the unborn” were causes she
claimed to support. With these strategies, Rachael Saplin was able to maintain
a high approval rating.She didn’t have
to know much about policy, law, national issues, and international affairs. As
she said to another candidate running for governor, “Know one cares about those
things.”Sadly, she was right.Simple worked for Rachael Saplin. And she was
sure that a simple plan would be the best plan this time, too.

Rachael was psyched to “have” this new baby. As the mother
of a child with Down Syndrome, she wanted to become known as the epitome of the pro-life woman. In any
election, pro-life voters were a valued group. If she got those votes, she
could defeat any male opponent at the voting booth. She could run against any
man and win. Yup, any man!Since it was premature to run for President
of the United States, she wanted to run for Vice President. That made sense. It
would set her up to become President either by default – McElwain was very old
– or by election in four years. He was a one-term guy in her opinion. If he
didn’t see it that way, she would have to challenge him for the top of the
ticket. She was a maverick, after all.

In the climate of this year’s presidential race, the Lord
knew McElwain needed the help of a woman
in order to win the female vote. She could do that. And she could bring fundamentalists
over to the ticket, too.Simple.
Perfect. There was no one better to help the party win this important election
thanGovernor Rachael Saplin.

McElwain’s team would be at the convention in Texas, looking
for potential running mates. She, a female governor with a still-decent butt, would
give a speech that would present her assets.Fortunately, no one knew much about her state, and she could embellish
her weak policy and program accomplishments. Her speech was a brilliant piece
of propaganda her writers came up with, claiming that she was an energy expert,
pointing to the fact that she was from a state with a good amount of oil
drilling and gas production. (As if
merely being from a place makes one an expert on it’s natural resources. ) There
was no shame in using this speech, making these claims, and, in effect, relying
on her team of advisors to make her look good. After all, that’s what the
President has to do, too – get good advice, surround himself with good people.
The secret to governing was as simple as that. Which meant she was as
qualified, absolutely, without a doubt, qualified to run with McElwain as the
party’s Vice Presidential nominee. Even being POTUS was simple.She might be the only person in the world who
knew that. Which only proves that God works in mysterious ways.

Rachael’s worries were not about God or about her ability
to handle a job as big as VP or President. Her worries were that there are a
lot of doubting Thomases and plenty of liberal anti-Christians. The challenge
would be overcoming the doubts in the heads of the country’s Neanderthals that a
woman with a baby could handle the role of Vice President.This was tricky. Her base would be torn -
Evangelicals would have a hard time with that. Which, of course, another reason
Calc’s disability was so very obviously part of God’s plan. When it came down
to it, working moms were a fact of life. A pro-life mom as VP would be a coup
for the conservative movement. And a pro-life mom raising a child with a
disability? That was the opportunity of the century.

It was clear, God had sent her into politics for such a
time as this.She was McElwain’s best
chance to win the presidency, surely the McElwain camp would see that when she
was in Texas. He was a maverick, she was a maverick. A long-shot one-of-a-kind,
she could shake things up. Lord knew his boring campaign needed that.

And, thanks to Tad, she had proof that people liked her and
wanted her to run. It had taken some work, lots of time, and some under the
table money, and it was working. Behind the scenes, Tad had orchestrated some “grassroots” support
for her candidacy. Rachael didn’t have the details and didn’t want them, but
somehow, Tad had provided services to some big business people and some
military big-wigs and they, in turn, were drumming up donations and support for
Rachael as a national candidate.

In one case, the support really had started out as
grassroots and Tad, through the governor’s office, simply provided some
fertilizer. It came unexpectedly. One day Tad took a call from some
out-of-state college student who said he wantedto start a Rachael Saplin for Vice President blog. “He says he found you
by searching on the Internet. His blog will talk about your one-of-a-kind
combination being exactly what the party needs – a pro-life, pro-gun, fiscally
conservative woman who will go toe-to-toe with the corrupt bastard’s
club.”

“He’s from outside? And he gets it!” Rachael was thrilled. “But,
just one question,”

“What? I already gave him the go-ahead for the blog,” Tad
said.

“That’s okay. But, Tad, what’s a blog?”

CHAPTER NINETY- ONE

Plans were finalized.A couple weeks after the Texas trip, and a couple weeks before Rachael’s
“due date,” the baby would be “born.” At the core of the plan was Dr. Abigail Barten-Curtain’s
favorite medical facility, the tiny valley hospital where there were always
empty beds. As a member of the hospital board and a doctor on staff, it was
normal for ABC to come in at any hour. Friday was also key. More patients were
released on Fridays than other days, it helped to keep insurance costs down. So on the upcoming Friday, just before it
turned to Saturday, the facility would have any number of beds empty. That, and
the dimmed lights of the dimmed lights of the hallways would give cover to the
handful of players in the impending Saplin family dramatic production. It would be a play in two acts.

Act I, Scene I: Wrangler and Cristol and Helen were to
bring Calc in; Dr. Barten-Curtain would meet them at the staff entrance after the
night-shift had arrived. The three would have a private room on the maternity
wardin which they could wait,
undisturbed.

Act I, Scene II: Tad and Rachael would go to the hospital
in the early hours of Saturday and get in the same way as the others.

Act I, Scene III: Sometime in the night, Dr. Barten-Curtain
would take Calc from Cristol and “deliver” him to Rachael, allowing her to
later say she delivered a baby to Governor Saplin at that hospital that day.

Act II, Scene ISaplin and Heat family members would assemble at the hospital.Word would be sent to the governor’s staff
that the baby had arrived early.

Act II, Scene IIReporters would descend upon the hospital. A family member would be
chosen to make a statement and/or presentation to the media. Depending on
whether the baby was cooperating or not, a picture of the baby might be
allowed. Staff from the administration
would be seen bringing papers for the governor’s signature. They would report that she was fine, and was
back at work from her hospital bed.

Everyone had memorized their parts. Tad, the “father,”would remain in the room, Cristol, Wrangler
and Helen would head for the waiting room, where, if they were lucky, they
would be seen buying snacks from the vending machines,reading old magazines, and be overheard
talking about “early labor.” Lines had been written, and if they couldn’t be
remembered, silence was the only acceptable option.

Maple and Pride would be staying with Betty and Buck, and
an after-midnight call would summon them all to the hospital. Betty and Buck
were not to be told the exact date because Buck Heat couldn’t keep his mouth
shut. Not that he told secrets, no, not at all. He told lies. He told them
often and he told them poorly. He’d lie even if the truth were better.Secretly, Cristol let Maple in on the plans
so that she wouldn’t climb out the window Friday night and be who-knows-where
doing who-knew-what. An empty bed where a
sleeping granddaughter should have been would have played havoc with the
carefully timed plans.

It would come off without a hitch because it was a simple
plan. Rachael was certain.

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Rachael and Tad were half way through the eleven hour
flight to Texas. Rachael was relaxed, smug and confident that the shelf life of
any criticism would be less than a week. The “baby” wasn’t going to be “hurt;”
the situation was like cotton candy in the rain - sticky for a short time, then
gone without a trace. She was tired. She slept until the plane began to
descend.

On her way through the airport, the cover of “Who” caught Rachael’s eye.“Wait, Tad, I got to keep up on political
events.” She bought the magazine, the one with a cover shouting out a politician’s denial of an affair. This
particular public servant had purportedly been photographed and fuzzy cell
phone pictures showed someone embracing a pony-tailed blonde in a beer tent at
a country and western concert.Rachael
couldn’t wait to curl up in bed and read the details.

In the hotel, Rachael put on a butter yellow two-piece
pajama set from Wal-Mart. It was a routine she had at home and when she
traveled. Pajamas signaled the end of each workday; she put them on immediately,
even if she got home at noon. Wrangler had been amazed at how many colors of
them she owned. She smiled to herself remembering how he once asked, “Geez Mrs.
S, did you leave any on the rack?” and she’d responded, “Would you rather I
didn’t wear anything?”That shut him up.

Getting comfy, Rachael got out the magazine, propped up the
big pillows on the big bed, and opened a box of Crunch and Munch. The clumps of
caramel were part of her strategy for packing on some weight fast. As she
looked at the photos of the couple embracing, kissing, laughing, she could see
that the passion was real.

Suddenly, she flung aside the paper, startling Tad, who had
been resting in a recliner, eyes closed, feet elevated. “Tad, let’s talk.”

Not being able to talk freely in public, they had to talk
when opportunity arose, like it or not. Though he wouldn’t like it, Tad was
going to have to stay awake for a while.

“Scripture says a
laborer is worthy of his hire,” she started out. He hated when she tossed
around Bible blurbs.“So, what can we do
to repay ABC?”

Tad had no clue what this was about. Heck, Rachael had done
plenty for her friend the doctor in the past, helping with Calc and all was
just repayment for what she owed the governor. Six years ago,Oil Regulation Chair Rachael Saplin had
called in some favors to get the doctor named State Physician of the Year. It
was accompanied by a large monetary award. She’d used it to open an office to
serve victims of abuse, incest, and rape, and to help minors and their families
deal with unplanned pregnancies. These problems were as common in the valley as
Rush is Right bumper stickers.
Inan interesting display of social
behavior, a majority of Azzles vote the family values ticket yet more teens in
the valley have babies than iPhones. Dr. ABC was deeply alarmed about the growth in numbers
of girls having babies without prenatal care and hurting their babies with drug
and alcohol use. That was partly why she was helping the Saplins now. It was
also because she was Rachael’s friend. So, wasn’t -

A pillow hit Tad in the head. “Hey!” Rachael said. “Pay attention, Tad.I said, a laborer is worthy of his hire,”
Rachael quoted the scripture again. Long ago she’d stopped learning scripture,
but early years spent attending youth group had given her a lifelong
repertoire. Tad had no such storehouse of wisdom. He was street smart and
self-taught.Though he had once prayed
“The Sinner’s Prayer” at a Christian-run athletic camp when he was fifteen,
he’d never gotten into religion the way Rachael had. It was that prayer,
though, that sealed the deal for Rachael Heat when chose Tad Saplin for her
boyfriend. Young Rachael had promised herself she would marry a Christian, and
Tad didn’t appear to be one. But when she suggested he become one, he told her
about that prayer.At that moment, Tad
became an acceptable boyfriend-slash-future-husband.

To this day, Tad was confused that Rachael wasn’t looking
for Christian behavior, church attendance, memorization of scripture, or
anything that took time, effort, or commitment. Nope. Nothing real was
required. Under peer pressure and threat of eternal damnation, he’d repeated,
phrase by phrase, some prayer one night around a campfire. Glory Hallelujiah,
he passed theRachael sniff test.
Amazing! But, at times like this, that did him no good.

“Tad! Are you
listening?”

“Rachael, Dr. Barton-Curtain is getting paid .” He was
tired. With all the patience he could muster, he reminded her that expenses
were not their problem. “That’s what insurance is for. Everything’s covered.
Let’s get some sleep.”

“Tad! Yoo hoo!”

Snide remarks - they grated his nerves as much Bible
blurting.

“I’m not talking
about money, Tad.”

If she wasn’t
talking money, she wasn’t talking Tad’s language. With Tad it was always about
money.

Tad looked tired. Rachael looked annoyed. He stayed quiet,
she kept talking. “Abigail’sdone a lot .
She has helped Cristol come to terms with having a baby that isn’t perfect and,
also, too, not blame herself for the drinking and his problems even so, Cristol
is still a good person and then, too,she arranged to keep all the pre-natal visits a secret…” Rachael was
zig-zaggy her way through an explanation while Tad grit his teeth. “In less
than ideal circumstances, I’ve got great respect for the way she
single-handedly took control, also too, the whole neonatal intensive care unit
up in the city, with exactly the privacy needed for us and then that team of
pediatric-”

“I know, I know,” he stopped her. The monologue was just
overused phrases, same things over and over again;“less than ideal” and “great respect” and
“also, too” were all meaningless.“Make
your point,” he grumbled.

“Well, honestly,
Tad. Don’t you appreciate that she’s risking her reputation? First Cristol, but
now Larissa’s delivery? Even if Field says it’s not his, there’s got to be
tests. Abigail got her to agree to it.
If anybody can guide a new mom toward doing what’s right for her baby, it’s
her.When Larissa goes into labor, we
are high-tailing it to that hospital. Did I tell you that?”

“Many times.” He
slouched in the overstuffed seat, trying to get comfortable. The chair was much
bigger than the one at home.

Rachael picked her hairbrush up off the nightstand and
flung it at him, striking him on the shoulder. “Ouch, cut it out.”

“You don’t act like
this is a big deal Tad, but she’s really stuck her neck out to keep our
secrets.I’d even pay her off if it came
to that.”

“People don’t care,
Rachael, it’s not the same as when Field was born. Azzolla is full of young
unmarried girls with babies. Only your mother still uses that phrase “Born out of wedlock.” You need to pay more
attention. Probably twenty girls are pregnant at AHS right now. The Valley is
like a third world country, and no one seems to care. They don’t care.” He’d
said it three times.

“Well I care. And Abigail helped me come up with some ideas
to protect me – and us – and, of course, also, the kids” Rachael said.“Boy oh boy, it’s a good thing Dee Dee is
studying abroad right now. If that’s not Field’s baby, she doesn’t ever have to
hear any of this. I want those two kids to get married. If Field marries a
minister’s daughter, it will look real good for me. ” Rachael said. “And,
besides, this summer I’m going to need her for child care again. This time
she’s going to be Calc’s nanny. Man, that Larissa could really mess thing up
for me if… Well I can’t think about that right now.”

She got up and picked up the pages of the magazine. Noticing
the pictures of the tryst, she began to fume anew. “So unnecessary. Why can’t
men behave? This stupid pol got caught, Field’s made a baby, and there’s that
bun in the oven of yours. “

They glared at each other for a few seconds, then Rachael
turn her head so he wouldn’t see her tears.“God Tad, how could you?”

“I know, I know.” He
looked up at the ceiling, praying for divine intervention with the same depth
of religious conviction he’d had at fifteen.

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked at Rachael, but she
still had her head turned. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and tried to
shut everything out. Babies were complicating his life. All he wanted was to go
back up north and work for two weeks, come home, work on his snow-machine and
take it for long rides all by himself.

After a while, she heard him snoring. It took her another
hour to fall asleep.

When the phone rang, Rachael was asleep in one of the queen
size beds.Tad was asleep in the
recliner.Both reached toward the night
stand where his cell phone was vibrating and shining and playing an electronic
version of an 80s punk song.

“Hello,” Tad
croaked.

Rachael threw the covers off and swung her feet onto the
floor. Groping, she found her glasses and put them on. She moved over and put
her ear close to Tad’s.It was Lydia,
reporting that Larissa was in labor, but the doctor said not to go to the
hospital yet. It would be hours before anything happened, and contractions
might stop.

Lydia didn’t know they were in Texas. When Tad told her,
she apologized for bothering them. “I’m sorry, Rachael asked me to keep you
informed – said you want to be there.But now you can’t. I’ll be there, though, I’ll be there for us all. By
the time you get back, you might be grandparents.”

“Keep us
posted.”Rachael looked at Tad. They
were both exhausted. Neither wanted to talk about it, they just wanted to try
to get more sleep. But they stayed up
and made a plan. A call was put in to Dr. ABC.It was a Friday. The plan would have to be put into action. This day and
the weeks ahead were going to be very busy.

CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

Tad had booked a flight leaving two hours after Rachael’s scheduled
speech. Close, but doable.Now the
speech was history. It had been exhilarating -the standing ovation, her coy
exit as Gov. Barry called out asking her to stay.Explaining confidentially to his aide that
she had gone into labor and asking the shocked young man not to tell. It was
fun. It was working for her.

The only hitch so far was the unexpected offer of Governor
Barry’s private jet. It would have been nice, but getting home early would mess
with carefully timed events negotiated with Dr. ABC to provide minimum
exposure.Tad hadn’t known what to do
when the offer was made, and had quickly deferred to Rachael. ”Thanks, but no
thanks,” she’d brushed away the suggestion as if she’d been offered a stick of
gum. “I’ll be fine.”

When her colleague insisted, she told him it was a matter
of integrity. After all, she’d gotten rid of the private jet her predecessor
bought – it was one of her campaign promises- put it up on eBay.“It would be wrong to let the good people of
your great state pay to fly me home when I already have a perfectly good ticket
...”The limo pulled up and she climbed
in, leaving Governor Barry wondering whether he’d witnessed true-blue
conservatism or a grossly cavalier negligence. Either way, Governor Rachael
Saplin made an unforgettable impression.

Rachael had been
wearing her faux maternity pillow during the conference. It was more
comfortable than the bigger and more realistic belly she’d put on a few times
back home. That thing was too awkward for travel. Once they arrived at the
airport, she going to remove even this pillow in a bathroom stall and store it
in a carry on bag.No big belly on the
plane – nothing to call attention to themselves.

Chances were slim that they’d be recognized by anyone. It
was a good thing God was holding off on making her a household name. He’s in control, the thought was
comforting.

Once on the plane,
Rachael ordered a drink. It was a bit out of character for her to drink in
public, she was very careful not to tarnish her evangelical Christian creds,
but she on this trip it was medicinal. It was a sleep aide, and it worked.

Waking her up as the plane approached Seattle, the
attendant asked her to put her sear back into the upright position.It was dark out, and looking down at the
lights of the city, she wondered at how vast this country was, at how many
people there were in the lower 48.Probably more people in that city right down there than in the entire
state of –“

“So far, so
good.”Tad said. “We’re landing on
time.”

The weather was clear. She looked at the buildings growing
larger as they descended. I wonder if any are hospitals? I wonder if there’s a
baby being born right down there, right now.

Tad had his cell phone out and his finger hovering over the
“on” button.“Electronic devices may
now…” he pressed down and the phone cycled through the connection phase.
“Hello? Lydia? Has it happened?”He was
keeping his voice low, not out of respect for others, but to minimize the
chance that anyone was listening. “Oh, good.”

What the heck is
it that’s good? The suspense tortured
Rachael.

“We’ve just landed in Seattle. We’re going to have a two
hour layover.”

Still, not able to hear what Lydia was saying, Rachael
nervously began chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Okay, sure….three and a half to four more hours before
we…yup,I will. Bye.”Rachael grabbed for the phone, but Tad had
disconnected.

“Well? What’s going on?” Rachael whispered. It wasn’t
necessary, all the passengers around them were pre-occupied, standing and
stretching, opening up overhead storage bins.

“Soon, but not yet.”

“How soon?”

“An hour, maybe.”

“Crap, this is getting complicated. I wanted it to be
simple. Shit.”Rachael hadn’t meant to
say it quite so loudly. She looked around to make sure no one had noticed.A woman in the aisle with a little boy gave
her a cold stare.

“Hello there. May I help you?” Rachael said with an
insincere smile.

The woman scowled
and turned away.

“Bless your heart.” Rachael sneered.

The flight out of Seattle went smoothly. When they landed,
they grabbed their bags off the carousel and started through the terminal.Rachael held a duffle bag in front of her and
they walked to the parking lot, easily locating the black Suburban Tad had
parked only two days before.

“That guy in Seattle
has me worried. I hope he forgets he saw us.”

“Yeah, what a
coincidence.” Tad put emphasis on the forbidden c-word. “We never run into
anyone else from the Valley in the VIP lounge.” He was baiting her.The fisherman in him couldn’t help but cast
off one more time. “Untimely coincidence.”

She didn’t bite. She stayed with the program. “In a few
weeks, this trip home will be old news. As long as the media don’t find that
guy.”

”He’s a guy, Rachael. Guys don’t comment on that
stuff.He wouldn’t be able to say how pregnant
you look. Or should I say, don’t look.”

“I hope you’re right.” She wanted to believe it.

“Believe me, there’s no fucking way.”She cringed at the profanity, but still found
the message reassuring. She needed all the reassuring she could get.

“You’re probably
right. Still, I wish I’d gotten his name… But, I won’t think about that. If I
have to, I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

Tad’s phone rang and he looked at the lit screen.“It’s Lydia.”

Rachael snatched the phone from him. “Larissa had a baby
boy,” she repeated. “Everything went well.”

Mother and child were resting.Field, still denying paternity, hadn’t been
there. A test would have to be done. No matter how it came out, Lydia had
developed a fondness for the young woman and she hoped they would remain
close.

Lydia’s husband Kenneth wasn’t interested in charades.He’d tired of lies and pretense and paternity
problems long ago. He’d been friends with Rachael’s parents most of his life,
but as for Rachael and Tad, he could do without the drama they brought into
people’s lives. He was hoping Field’s paternity test would be negative.

Driving in the dark, going only ten miles over the speed
limit so they wouldn’t draw any attention to themselves, it took Tad and
Rachael an hour to get to Valley Hospital.As she had promised, Abigail Barten-Curtain met them at the staff door
toward the far end of the parking lot.A
light above the door provided safety to employees, and made silhouettes of the
couple as they slipped inside.

I was a little confused where things were taking place. I thought the recliner was at home but here it's the motel room? Confused at the airport in Seattle. The man in the lounge? Confused about Field and the pregnant girl and the hospital baby/Trig? I was tired when I read it. Guess I'm confusing fact from fiction....

They fly to Texas.They are in a hotel room.He falls asleep in a recliner that Alison clearly writes is larger than the one he has at home.She gives her speech and leaves at the end to catch the flight he booked two hours after the speech.

The one possibly obscure reference is the man in the lounge which is someone who says after the fact that he saw the Governor acting very relaxed in the airport when she was supposed to be leaking amniotic fluid and having contractions.

As for the "Larissa" and the baby, I'm intrigued and will definitely be tuning in next week to see what happens.